


Old Hands Know

by starshark



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Tactile Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starshark/pseuds/starshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairing: Kup/Blurr Verse: IDW Rated M Tactile play, PWP </p><p>Trying a new style of writing for this one. Sorry if it seems a little wonky. I really just wanted to write something porny of this favourite pairing of mine Thank you to Duckies who was my Beta reader!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Hands Know

"Kuh—Kup…" Blurr was squirming beneath old hands, ones that knew every seam and opening in the young racer's armor from months of learning, memorizing. Old hands that were battle worn and rough, nowhere near the usual silky slide of a newly glossed finish that Blurr was singularly used to in ages past. These hands had chips in their lengths, and the joints creaked and stuck and sometimes jerked in trigger happy little twitches when the owning mech wasn't paying attention. But they knew every spot that would elicit the sweetest sounds from the fast-talker's mouth, every circuit and wire in every joint that would make Blurr's vents hitch and whimper with his need.

"What're the magic words?" He enjoyed teasing, something the little racer both loved and loathed, because while the maddeningly slow build of energy and charge was great and all, he needed that release, wanted to rush to overload but wasn't allowed. The delicate balance between build-up and release was Kup's specialty, it seemed, as he was probably the best Blurr had ever experienced with it; he'd had plenty who tried. It drove him up the wall sometimes, but by the end of it he'd always be thoroughly sated and thankful. Who could deny Kup's techniques after all?

Finally, Blurr gave in. "P-please Kup— Just touch me properly already!" The cygar in the teal mech's mouth shifted to accommodate the grin that spread across his face for that plea, and Blurr could do naught but yelp as rough digits prodded in underneath his chassis, sliding all the way around the sides of his abdominal vents, over his side piping and into his back struts. The racer could feel his spark swirling with desire deep in his chassis cavity and clutched onto the mech above him, gasping to cool his systems as those electrifying touches kept sending surges of heat straight to his groin.

The first time Kup had done this the racer was incredibly quick to overload, not having expected to be touched so expertly. The surprise of not needing to release his interfacing equipment hit him hard and he'd been embarrassed for weeks (even while Kup touched him over and over again with soft brushes of his fingers, kisses across his throat in the dark shadows of the base). For being a soldier that followed prototcol almost as strictly as some of the higher ups, Kup indulged in his desires enough to make Blurr second guess the mental age of his lover.

There was a sudden delve of fingers into the thruster vents at his back that jarred him from his thoughts and his hips bucked, hitting hard against the older mech's with an unceremonious sound and making him flush just enough before he was distracted by the crippling charge that seeped from Kup's fingertips into the sensitive boosters. The cry Blurr unleashed was somewhere between a whimper and a yelp; he hadn't realized the amount of charge he'd accumulated just remembering things past and was suddenly stricken with the feeling that overload was close. Too close.

He squirmed hard, panting, but Kup wouldn't let up. Electrical signals kept pulsing from his fingertips into the large, open casing of the thrusters, the connectors at Blurr's back and shoulders amplifying the charge and sending it shooting for both spark and interface panel. Again he whined, pleaded with his lover to stop his torture, but Kup wouldn't heed and merely shifted one hand to grab a hold of the back of a blue and white leg, hiking it up over his shoulder and easily reaching the tire there at Blurr's pede. Before he lay hand on it, he gave the racer a smug look. Blurr shook his head frantically, knowing the tweak that the old mech was certainly planning would set him off and end it all too quickly.

Being the lover he was, Kup paid no mind, and Blurr felt his optics widen and his face heat with a flush before all he saw was white as those tired old hands came alive, the one rotating and massaging his tire tread as the other continued its attack on the blue mech's shoulder thruster. Blurr's body bucked and arched off of the berth, a high keen shrieking from his vocalizer, and his toeplates curled and pointed, every muscle wire and bundle in his frame going taut as overload barreled through him. Pricks of sparkling light dazzled his vision behind the optical shutters that clamped down tight, and Blurr swore his spark was glowing bright enough to be visible through his chassis, so hard it was pumping and swirling with its ecstasy.

As the charge finally released, the hands that had so quickly brought Blurr to an overwhelming peak were slowly bringing him back down; rubbing over him gently, smoothly, shushing and soothing his systems as they reset themselves from such an intense overload. Blurr panted heavily, whining at the older mech, but ultimately gave in and wrapped his arms up around Kup's shoulders, nuzzling their forehelms lightly, for which he surprisingly was given a kiss instead of the usual off-putting chuff.

Figuring that Kup deserved it for being so crafty and pushy, Blurr nipped at his lover's lower lip, grinning. "Man.. fraggin' love those hands of yours."


End file.
